


The Boss 7: Demon Bound

by grey853



Series: The Boss [7]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Depression, Extreme angst, M/M, Male Slash, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody ever said what happens after a federal agent has holes drilled in his head, gets off on a hallucinogen, suffers clonic seizures, and holds a gun to his head. Well, they should have. This story comes before "Lost, but Found."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boss 7: Demon Bound

12 Jan 1998 M/SK PG-13 

Boss 7: Demon Bound by Grey 

Warning: This story deals with love between two men. If you have a problem with that, then it's yours to figure out. Go away. I won't tell you again. 

Disclaimer: Walter Skinner, Mulder, and Scully are free agents in my mind. 

Archive: MKRA/MSSS OK 

SPOILER: "Demons" big time. 

Summary: "The Boss" series starts after "Zero Sum". Number 7, "Demon Bound" takes place after the summer house scene. Nobody ever said what happens after a federal agent has holes drilled in his head, gets off on a hallucinogen, suffers clonic seizures, and holds a gun to his head. Well, they should have. This story comes before "Lost, but Found." 

Rating: PG-13. No explicit sex. Sorry. Next time for sure. 

* * *

**The Boss 7: Demon Bound**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Demon%20Bound)

* * *

Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner leaned heavily against the wall outside Mulder's hospital room, his arms folded tightly against his chest as though they could cage the pain that pounded wildly in his chest. His head bowed, he looked like a man in prayer. He heard the clicking before he actually saw the tiny feet come to stand next to him. A light touch on his coat sleeve tingled up to his slightly flushed cheeks. No way was Agent Scully going to see him cry. No way in hell. 

"Sir? Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, Agent Scully." He raised his head and met with bloodshot blue eyes. "You look tired. How long has it been since you got any sleep?" 

She smiled slightly, dismissing his concern. "I'll be alright, but you look whipped. The flight in from LA always wears me out, too." 

A quiet moment passed. He unfolded his arms and stood straight, turning a little closer into her space before he spoke. "I wished you'd called me as soon as you found him Sunday morning." 

She nodded, "I probably should have, but you were at the conference all the way across country. At that point I, we weren't even sure what was going on." 

"True, but I could've come back." 

"How? You were one of the main speakers. It would've been more than a little awkward trying to explain that you had to come take care of your mentally unstable lover, who, by the way, just happens to be the one and only Spooky Mulder, one of your subordinate agents. Excuse me, sir, but I really don't think most of the Bureau division heads would be all that understanding." 

"You're right, but, you still should've called after he was arrested." 

"I was a little busy trying to save his ass." Before he could speak, she leaned in and softly added, "Besides, sir, he asked me not to." 

Skinner sighed deeply and nodded, raising his hand to rub the weariness from his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to refocus. Replacing the glasses so he could see more clearly, he sighed. "I figured that. I just wish, oh never mind, it doesn't matter what I wish now." 

"I'm sorry, sir. I called as soon as I could." 

"I know that and I appreciate you taking care of him." 

His voice hitched, the muscles aching in his throat as he struggled to form the words. "God, Scully, did he really almost shoot himself? You faxed that report and I couldn't believe what I was reading. Please, tell me that this isn't as bad as it sounds." 

"I can't do that, sir. I'd be lying, and frankly, there have been enough lies lately." 

He looked up and away from his own fear for a moment and measured the full extent of her fatigue. The skin stretched and pulled tight around her eyes, as her whole body remained folded and compact, taut like the tripwire right before it sets off the explosion. "You should go home, Scully. I'll take over from here. Go get some rest." 

She nodded agreement, but didn't turn away. "I will, but first, may I speak frankly?" 

"Like you haven't been doing that already?" 

"No, I haven't been, not by a long shot." 

Shit. "Permission granted." 

"Mulder's not well. And I'm not just talking about this mess. As his partner, I've known it for some time. I think you've known it, too." 

"You never said anything." 

"Neither of us have. I believe the applicable terms are codependence and denial." 

"What's your point here, Scully?" 

"My point, sir? The point is that the Roche case should've been the last straw, but I let it go, and so did you. We're both guilty here. We both care about him and don't want to admit that he's been running on self-destruct for some time. Plus, I have to accept that I've been more than a little distracted with my own agenda lately." 

Skinner studied her steady features. Her incredible strength in the face of her own mortality awed him past words. "I understand that, Scully. And I'm sorry." 

"No reason for you to be. I think we both recognize and face death a little differently than Mulder though. He blames himself. For everything. It's made him so much worse." 

"I know." 

"I have to confess that I was so afraid that when I was gone, he'd be alone. Then, when you two first started together, he got better. I really hoped it would be enough to save him." 

"But it hasn't saved him, has it." 

"No, sir. I think we're both kidding ourselves to think that Mulder's problems could be solved by being loved when he can't bring himself to love himself." 

"God, Scully, you sound like you've given up on him." 

She edged forward, as close as she could get to his face without standing on her tiptoes. Her intensity forced him to the wall. "Don't you dare say that to me, sir. Do you think it's easy saying any of this? You've been with him for less than a month. It's been four years for me. Four years of watching him sink deeper into despair. I can't tell you how often I've cried for that man. I won't ever give up on him, even if he gives up on himself." 

"And you think that's what's happened?" The fear wrenched his voice to a tight whisper. 

She glanced down avoiding his eyes. "I don't know for sure. But this thing with that quack Goldstein has started something. He's always been desperate to remember what happened to his sister, obsessed with it. Whatever that drug made him see, scared him badly enough that he verbally attacked his own mother. He then went on to put a gun to his head and to point it at me when I tried to stop him." 

"Jesus, Scully." 

She placed her hand on his sleeve while he struggled to control the water misting his dark eyes to a blur. "Sir, he won't listen to me anymore. He loves you, but he's terrified of that and what it means." 

"I know." 

"You can't save him alone. He needs more help than either of us can give him." 

Fear skittered in his ears, jabbering to drown out the words he knew were coming, but that he always wanted to avoid." 

"You think he should see a psychiatrist?" 

"I'm sure I'm not saying anything new." 

He nodded and took a deep breath before saying. "Thanks, Scully. I'll think about it. Right now, I need to talk to him. Hell, he'd be pissed if he knew we were talking about him like this." 

She grinned past exhaustion, "Oh, I'm sure he already knows. Besides being depressed, obsessed, and impulsive, he's also paranoid. He thinks everyone is talking about him, which they usually are. He just doesn't care much unless it's us." 

"Go home, Scully. I don't want to see you at the office the rest of this week. Mulder won't be released from here for at least another 72 hours and I'm planning on taking care of him until I'm sure he can work." 

"Okay, but, sir, call me if you need to just talk." 

"My own Mulder specialist?" 

"Who else?" Her face once again serious, she added, "Take care with him. He's not nearly as tough as he looks or pretends. Remember what I said about carrying live rounds." 

"I remember. The flak jacket's packed and it still fits." 

"I'm sure it does, sir. Now, go in and give our boy a sloppy kiss." 

Turning bright red all the way to his ear tips, Skinner choked. "Scully!" 

"Hey, it's better than a hole in the head." 

His face paled. "God, Scully. Don't joke." 

"I have to, or I'm going to be bawling in the hallway. Hysterical agents don't do shit for the FBI macho image." 

"Macho Agent Scully?" 

"You bet your ass, sir. Don't even try me." Before he could answer, she raised a hand and gave a quick wave. "I'm going home now. Tell Mulder if he asks, that I'm taking care of his fish and that he has my number." Then her tiny heels tapped and carried her away, leaving Skinner alone outside his lover's door. 

Steeling himself against what he might see, the AD knocked lightly and went in. Mulder sat quiet as dead wind before a storm, staring through the slatted shades at the window. Dressed in a navy flannel robe Skinner had never seen before, the young agent sat without even acknowledging the intrusion. 

"Mulder?" After a few more moments, he tried again. "Mulder, I need you to say something." 

Without turning from the window, he barely managed, "I'm okay, Walter." 

Moving in closer, he stopped when he saw Mulder try to push himself back further into the chair away from his approach. "How can you say you're okay?" 

"Because it's true. I mean, I know this looks bad. It is bad. But, I really am better now that it's settled down in my mind." 

"Now that what's settled down?" 

"The memories. They were so clear, like I was really there and it was happening all over again, but now they're all gone. I don't really remember them very well at all. Ever since I woke up, I've just felt so empty. Not a very pleasant feeling, but at least it's calm." 

"That could be the medication. They had to give you something for the seizures." 

"Did they? I don't remember that." 

"Do you remember Scully finding you at the summer house and what happened before they brought you here?" 

He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands. His voice thickened as he spoke slowly. "I don't recall going there, but I do see Scully standing in front of me and I'm holding a gun on her." Rocking slowly, he wrapped his arms around himself and barely spoke above a whisper. "Jesus, Walter. I almost shot her. How could I do that? Modell was one thing, but, this, I don't understand. I just wanted to be left alone." 

"Alone to do what, Mulder?" 

"I don't know. To think, to remember, to put an end to this grinding misery. I don't know." 

"An end?" 

The hurt tone of his lover's voice brought Mulder attention to Walter's face for the first time. The pain he saw slicked ice across his skin. He'd been crying. "Shit, it's not what you think, Walter." 

"Isn't it? 

"No. I just wanted all the pain to stop, but I wasn't really going to do that. I just need to be alone to sort things out." 

"So, Scully just made it up?" 

Mulder came up out of the chair, took a step to stand by his boss. "Fuck. Walter, did she write that in the report, that I was going to kill myself? Did she? Don't lie to me." 

"Is that what you're worried about, that it's in the official report that you're suicidal?" 

"Walter, I'm not. Honest. I swear to you." Nervous energy forced his frantic movements around the room, his hand pushing the uncombed hair back out of his face. "I can't believe she did that." 

"Did what?" 

"Betrayed me like that. Put it in the report." 

"Betrayed you? Mulder, she saved your ass this weekend. She managed to get you out of jail and rescue from whatever happened at the summer house. She did not betray you." 

"But the report." 

"Scully's almost as good as you at obscuring the facts. I haven't been reading X-Files reports for the last four years without learning what isn't written is usually more important than what is." 

Sagging down in relief on the side of the bed, Mulder breathed easier. He shouldn't have. 

"Why wouldn't you let her call me when this all started?" 

"What could you have done from California?" 

"I could've come back here. I could've done more than be uninformed and useless thousands of miles away from where you were dealing with serious trouble. I would've come, Mulder? Did you really think I wouldn't?" 

"Honestly?" 

"That's what we're trying to work on here, Mulder." 

"I thought you'd be too pissed to come." 

Skinner squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and turned to face the wall while he tried to control the anger and hurt sparring like boxers trying to take over his brain. After a few moments he succeeded in turning around without a single molar cracked. 

"I am pissed, Mulder, but, we've been through this before. I hope you don't get too bored hearing it, but I love you." 

Oddly embarrassed by the sudden directness, Mulder shifted uneasily on the bed. Before he had a chance to say anything, a nurse entered carrying a tray. "Excuse me, Mr. Mulder. It's time to take your vitals and to give you your medication." 

She stopped when she saw Walter, the question of his identity unspoken. He said, "I'm Assistant Director Skinner of the FBI. I'm Agent Mulder's direct supervisor. I'll step outside if you want." 

"No, need, Mr. Skinner. This will only take a few moments, but I hope you don't stay long. This medicine will probably make him drowsy." 

"Not if I don't take it." The petulant tone tweaked Walter's patience to the end of its endurance. 

"Don't start, Agent Mulder. You're here for observation and treatment. You'll do what you're told, or don't even think about returning to active duty any time soon. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" 

"Yes, sir." Challenge charged the air to an uncomfortable gnawing sensation over the skin. Mulder sat stiffly as the nurse took his temperature, pulse, and pressure. He removed his robe and didn't even flinch when she gave him the shot. Ill at ease from the obvious tension between the two men, the woman quickly left. 

Walter removed his coat and stood by the window. "I'm sorry I snapped at you while she was here." 

"Why? It's what you do." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Haven't you noticed that whenever there's an audience we both put on quite a show. Me, I'm the whipping boy. You, you're the boss. Story of my life." 

"That's not true." 

"Isn't it?" 

"No, and now you're trying to redirect the attention away from the problem at hand." 

"What problem's that?" 

"Don't play games, Mulder. You're in trouble." 

"Nothing new. You, of all people, should know that." His words slurred slightly when he spoke, the dilation of pupil growing. 

Walter's voice softened. "You should go to sleep. That shot's kicking in already." 

"Yeah, well, we crazy folks need our drugs." 

Shaking his head in exasperation, Skinner moved toward the edge of the bed. More relaxed and less skittish, Mulder let him near. Picking up one of the long-fingered slender hands, he brought it to his cheek breathing in deeply the familiar Mulder scent. The hand gradually came alive and flexed, outlining hungry lips, caressing them with curious fingertips. 

"Mulder?" 

"What? Don't you like my hands?" 

"Yes, I must admit, I do." 

"Like it was hard for me to figure out." Mulder turned toward Walter and reached out to fondle the front of his crotch. He chuckled at the immediate reaction. "Miss me?" 

"Jesus, Mulder. We're in a hospital for godsakes." 

"So?" He rubbed harder, outlining the cock and balls beneath wool seams. 

"So, I need to be able to walk out here once you fall asleep." 

"You're leaving?" The hands stopped moving. 

"Not this minute, Mulder." Hands moved again. 

"I want you to stay. Right here, right now." Quickly the sound of zipper going down filled the room. His lover's dark head lowered, rested on his knee, and leaned over, his sexy face on Walter's lap. 

"God, Mulder. Stop." His heart pounded like war drum rhythms before a charge. 

"Come on, sir. I've missed the taste of you on my tongue. I have a craving for salty Walter dish." A hand snaked in to snare the prize. 

Mentally slapping himself from the daze, Walter Skinner barely managed to control the play for his straining cock by grabbing Mulder's eager hands. "Stop it, Mulder. I mean it." 

"Don't worry. The nurse won't be back for hours. We'll be safe." 

More forcefully than he intended, he held his lover's hands still. "You can't buy your way out of this with a blowjob, Mulder." 

Mulder's entire body stiffened and turned to sculpted stone. He hissed, "What did you just say?" 

"I said you're trying to distract me from talking to you about what happened." 

"No, you didn't. You called me a whore." Abruptly, Mulder pulled himself up as he unsteadily turned away and huddled under the covers. 

"I never said that, Mulder. You know I would never say such a thing." 

"Fuck off, Walter. Zip your goddamn pants and get out of here." 

Standing up, adjusting himself quickly, Walter retraced his words. "Oh, shit, Mulder. I'm such an asshole." 

"Yeah, you are. Join the club. Now get the fuck away from me. I'm too tired to deal with any of this right now." 

The trembling hand reaching for Mulder's sagging shoulder came back burned and rejected 

"I'm really sorry, Mulder. I didn't mean it like that. I'm tired, too. I've been up all night." 

"Sure. No problem. I'm giving you free head, and you throw it right back at me. Why the fuck should I care? You're through with me anyway." 

"I am not through with you, Mulder. I love you. I said something totally stupid and I'm sorry. I mean, give me a break here. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little upset myself. I'm not at the top of my game when my lover starts acting crazy. You're in the hospital for christ's sake." 

"The psych ward, Walter. What do you want to bet they've had sex fiends and deviants here before?" 

"It's not the psych ward. You're here because of the seizures." 

"Yeah, well, we both know the truth. Everybody's pretty damn sure I'm going to eat my gun any time now. Hell, they'd laugh their sorry asses off for sure if they knew what I just tried to eat." 

"Mulder, I want you to listen to me for a minute." 

"Why should I?" 

"Because I love you and I need you to hear me." 

Reluctantly, Mulder turned back to face the older man, his movements sluggish and overdone. He stretched out to full length on the bed. "Better hurry, sir. I'm starting to fade fast here. Adrenaline doesn't last like it used to." 

"Then maybe I'll come back later." 

"No, Walter, stay and talk to me now. I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know why I did that. It was stupid. As usual, my timing sucks, no pun intended." 

Skinner returned to sit on the edge of the bed. Carefully he reached out and placed his hand on Mulder's chest. "It wasn't stupid, but, you're right. The timing sucked. Listen, all I meant before is that you sometimes use sex to keep us from talking about things that make you uncomfortable." 

"I don't do that." 

"Yes, you do. Now, I want you to rest, but I also want you to know that I'm not leaving, not now, and not later. I'm not really sure what I have to do to convince you, but I'll work on a strategy while you're sleeping." 

Mulder could barely form words as his eyes closed and Skinner stroked his hair, petting him like a big napping cat. "I hope it includes all kinds of kinky persuasion." 

"Persuasion, yes. Kinky? Well, we'll talk." 

"Talk, talk, talk. Whatever happened to Skinner, man of action?" 

"He fell in love with a man named Mulder, and don't you dare accuse me of no action." Walter's hand slid down between long thighs, under the gown, and found a flaccid member. With his touch, it quickly came to life. "I'm sorry about earlier." 

"Oh, god that feels good. Please tell me you're going to fondle me into blissful oblivion. Oh, god, Walter. I hate to admit this, but you just might be the answer to my prayers." 

Mulder's breathing slowed as his eyelids closed. His body and mind slipped passed the sometimes tenuous boundary between awareness and sleep. Lovingly and with great care, Walter stopped his long caresses and arranged the covers to keep his the man of his dreams warm. He leaned over and brushed the pouty lips with his own. 

Fondly, he brushed his resting lover's hair back away from his face and felt the rough edge of a scab. Terror tingled his finger tips as a terrible dread taunted the back of his mind. He'd sacrifice his own life, his reputation, his very soul to save this man beside him. Visions of candles, crosses, Madonna's and gold all dangled like shiny promises just out of his grasp, almost beyond his faith. Then he realized that his personal savior lay much closer to home. Placing his hand over Mulder's slumbering heart, he bowed his head once again. 

* * *

The End 


End file.
